Here's some that come to mind:
Bart: Lisa, certain differences - rivalries, if you will - have come up between us. At first I thought we could talk it over like civilized people. But instead, I just ripped the head off Mr. Honeybunny. (holds up stuffed rabbit in one hand, head in the other)
Lisa: Bart, that was your cherished childhood toy.
Bart: Aah! Mr. Honeybunny!
Bart: OK, but on my way, I'm going to be doing this: (windmills arms) If you get hit, it's your own fault.
Lisa: OK, then I'm going to start kicking air like this. (kicks) And if any part of you should fill that air, it's your own fault.
(they walk towards each other, then start fighting)
Marge: Oh, I better go check that out. Now Homer, don't you eat this pie!
Homer: OK...(Marge leaves) All right, pie, I'm just going to do this. (chomps air) And if you get eaten, it's your own fault! (walks towards pie, chomping air, and hits head on range head) Ow! Oh, my - aw, to hell with this. (eats the pie)
Bart: Homer!
Homer: Hehehehehe. Homer's what grownups call me. Call me daddy.
Bart: Homer.
Homer: Daddy.
Bart: Homer.
Homer: Daddy!
Bart: Da...da...da...
Homer: Yes?
Bart: Domer! Hahahaha.
Homer: Why you little...(chokes Bart)
Marge: I'm afraid we're going to need a bigger house.
Homer: No, we won't. I've got it all figured out. The baby can have Bart's crib and Bart'll sleep with us until he's 21.
Marge: Won't that warp him?
Homer: My cousin Frank did it.
Marge: You don't have a cousin Frank.
Homer: He became Francine back in '76. Then he joined that cult. I think her name is Mother Shabubu now.
Bart: Hey Homer, this house sucks.
Homer: Bart, I told you never to use that word. Call me Daddy.
Abe: What, seeeex? What's so unappealing about hearing your elderly father talk about sex? I had seeeex.
Abe: My Homer is not a communist. He may be a liar, a pig, an idiot, a communist, but he is not a porn star!
Abe: Wait a minute! What was that last thing you said? "Grampa's Little Helper"...what's that? (to Santa's Little Helper and Snowball II) Which one of you is the mailman?
Marge: I have nothing to say to you.
Homer: But Marge, I was a political prisoner!
Marge: How were you a political prisoner?
Homer: I kicked a giant mouse in the butt! Do I have to draw you a diagram?
I could go on forever...